Three Quarters of the Moon
by rebellsking
Summary: The friendships Remus once had are dead. Four became one. And where they had been was now three quarters of the moon.


**A/N:** QLFC. Beater 2 for Tutshill Tornadoes, Round 4. Prompts- 2 (song: 'Demons' by Imagine Dragons), 3 (word: burst), 11 (restriction: no dialogue). And there's an emotion I'm going for here, but you can be the judge of that. Thanks for reading!

 **Word count: 1,047**

x

Remus Lupin always wondered what it would be like to go through a transformation alone.

He'd done it before, obviously. He'd been alone for years without companionship. Any semblance of friendship dissipated when the full moon broke through the sky. For such a large sum of Remus's life, he'd been alone.

Until he wasn't. He couldn't remember what it had been like before his friends. Not really.

Today, though, Remus walked alone. The streets were bare; the cold had driven everyone inside. He looped his hands inside his sleeves and ground his teeth together. Cool air bit at his ankles, where his trousers grazed his skin. He'd outgrown most of his clothes by now; his mother said he was done growing though, and thankfully so. He felt too long, too thin, too stretched out, when all he really wanted to be was _nothing_. And he was much the opposite of that.

A bell rung as he opened the door to Magical Menagerie, announcing his arrival. He was taking Delia's shift, and she greeted him happily upon seeing him. He hadn't entirely heard her, though, and simply nodded. Owls hooted and thrashed in their cages as he passed. He ignored it.

Delia asked how late he was working. Remus told her until close.

Later, she left. Three people came in during the entirety of his shift. When he was alone, he stayed in the back, where he couldn't see the animals in their cages, watching him. He could hear their howls, their hisses. He understood it; he was an abomination. But it didn't matter, he told himself. Next week he would quit, and he would find someplace else. He imagined he might have to leave London soon altogether.

Absently, he found himself staring at the sky. It stared back, moon round and bright, its own proud entity. He counted the stars around it. They danced around the moon in glinting unison, brightening and dimming like the passing of a wave over the water. His eyes grew heavy, and his tired body slumped against the back of the chair. In his sleep, the noise of the animals faded, and he was alone.

After some time, he heard the bell ringing, arousing the life in the store again. Remus woke with his face pointed towards the sky, the moonlight pouring on his face.

And then he remembered.

There was a woman at the door. She was not young, but not old. And Remus, upon seeing her, grew terrified. How had he forgotten? How had he ever separated himself from the demon lying in wait inside his chest?

His bleary mind was slow from sorrow, sorrow that never left him. It had dampened that beast, had allowed him to focus on a pain that was somehow worse.

Remus wanted to yell. He wanted to scream at her to run, to hide, to get away, but he did none of those things. He simply stood, watching as she grew near. She said hello, asked if they were still open—none of the lights were on. But the moonlight was enough for him, and in the window, he saw the werewolf reflected back at him.

If he said anything to her, he couldn't remember what it was. Could she not see? Did she not hear the ragged breath, see the yellow eyes, the angry jaw? She was alone with a monster, and paid no mind.

Panic began to rise within him. His throat was dry, his words gone. He grew disgusted at the thought—did he _want_ this to happen? Was this what he was becoming? His lack of forward motion struck anxiety like a drum through every single one of his bones, and thinking of nothing else, he began to run.

Out on the street, he was only aware of the moon following him in the sky. Violent tears burst in his eyes and sobs shuddered through his ribs. He could stop neither of these things, and he let the feelings propel him. It hurt, _so much_. It was white-hot knives in his throat, long angled nails searing into his skin. He thought of James and cried and ran. The town blurred around him, a combination of his movement and the water in his eyes. He wanted to stop, but couldn't. How did he make it stop _hurting_?

Then he screamed. The feeling was making its way down his spine, tearing and pulling and throbbing like drums. He thought of Peter. His lungs felt like they were collapsing, caving inwards, and he clawed at his throat for breath.

He thought of Sirius. Something burst—a flash of light, a change of scenery—and Remus's foot caught on something on the ground. He fell with his face in cool grass, and everything stopped.

It was obvious that he had apparated. He simply not could think of how, or why.

The ground was wet from autumn rain. It sent chills through his feverish body, and he rolled over with his face open to the moon. He gulped the sweet air as his heart beat slowed, and he waited.

When he had regained his energy, he stood. Before him was a tall building masked in black. Its shingles were falling off at the sides, the wood that held it up fraying. And something twisted in his gut. The thought of his first transformation, alone—it had sent him into frenzied panic.

And he fell, again, to his knees at the horrible realization. The Shrieking Shack was immaculate before him, before the broken shell of a man, of a beast that longed to break free. Here, where he had first learned what it felt like to _not_ be alone. To be loved, to be surrounded by it.

He knew that the three who had shown him that would never come here again.

His hands sunk into the puddle where his knees had found their home. The moonlight, reflecting from it, showed his face. A man, crying.

With his throat tight, he looked up to the moon. It was not yet complete, a sliver at its side still waiting in the dark.

He closed his eyes.

Remus Lupin always wondered what it would be like to go through a transformation alone.

x


End file.
